Khushi Chawla.
A writer.
Her Musings.
Her habit of looking at the world through snippets and scenes.
Her ever-growing crush on Sandeep and fawning over his 'yes-sir' fingers.
Sandeep Batra.
A Topper.
His Discipline.
His focus is on the big picture a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
" You know what, you don't need to suffer cause of me anymore, I'll ask Rao sir to change my seats " She said the first thing after entering back into class after Eco period.
" Why ?" My voice felt flat out dead even to my own ears.
"If we don't sit then we don't need to talk. Then you don't have to go through friendship shit with me." - " Listen very well Khushi Chawla, no one of us is going to change seats. And we won't be talking about this anymore. " I say cutting off her rambling.
" We just became friends. I don't know if you're in denial or playing hard to get." I felt desperation clogging inside me to keep her next to me . Why? I don't know. But that's not how my voice sounded. It was more of threat to her. Fuck.
"Bro don't you get it? This- our friendship- it all started on wrong terms , very wrong footing and timing. And you just can't force me to be friends one day, cause you had some wake-up call before night. That's not how it works. At least not for me." She all but whisper screams at me.
" Then you tell me. Tell me what works for you and we'll do it that way. Just don't bloody talk about changing seats ever cause it wont happen. " Is what I reply with straight face and an underlying edge in my voice. She gets what she wants, that's a rule you go by when dealing with woman.
" You still don't get it. Do you? What I want is consent. My choice. If we ever become friends than it should be your choice as much as it is mine. And no other way."
" Khushi what the hell you even want ? "
She scoffs.
" I am just not ready to be friends. Yet "
I sigh.
This writer will fuck with my brain cells, with and without her word power.
" I don't know " Her soft whisper fall on my deaf ears. I am about to snap at her, shake some sense in the walnut sized brain of her s but stop myself just about in time. Those eyes full of imagination brim with vulnerability behind her glasses.
All cause some indecisive chutiya urge of mine.
"Do whatever you want." We didn't talk afterwards that day.
•
" Good Morning," She greets her cheerful voice.
"Morning Shortie " Somehow my clipped reply does the thing.
Cause next I know is the plastic of her exclusive writing Wali len hitting the back of my head. Twice.
